


Vain in Costume

by orphan_account



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Club Sex, Glory Hole, M/M, Sloppy Seconds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 10:11:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12386064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: There's nobody more impatient than Yuri Plisetsky.





	Vain in Costume

———

The air pulsed in time with the wall of skin around him, packed close like zoo animals in their industrial warehouse cage. Strobe lights rendered the scene in stop motion as the crush of sweaty bodies bounced up and down to the carefully orchestrated beat.

It was three days til Rostelecom.

 _A fucking Tuesday night_ , and yet Otabek had still managed to find the seediest of clubs open in Moscow before the event. A packed industrial warehouse, all metal and post-Soviet fixtures.

Yuri could barely see Otabek from where he pushed through the flashing sea of people in varying stages of intoxication. He was a blurred silhouette, hoodie pulled high over his headphones and face shadowed inside the cloistered confines of the booth.

Yuri didn’t know when his set would finish. 

His phone was dead, screen smashed up from where it’d fallen out of his jeans when Otabek had pushed him up against the alley wall to slip his tongue into his mouth. He had pulled away just as fast slipping into the back door of the ‘club’ as Yuri had picked up his phone from the halo of splintered glass on the asphalt.

Moscow was _his_ city, and he still didn’t know this place existed.

Yuri avoided the slam of shoulders as the bass dropped, track shifting as he staggered and elbowed through the crowd until he finally hit the back wall. His fingers traced along the rise and fall of the corrugated steel as he stumbled to the restroom, rubber of his shiny black Docs sticking to the concrete as the door swung closed behind him. 

The flashing strobe was replaced suddenly with black light from lines of glowing tubes bolted to the ceiling. He side stepped a trail of vomit that lead to the sink; scent of bile, piss (and otherwise) fixing the small room in a pungent haze.

Yuri caught a brief glimpse of himself in a grease-streaked mirror to find his hair a surreal glow in the flicker of artificial light. The UV picking up on the white skin peaking through deliberate tears in his jeans and crop top.

He let out a long exhalation through his nose, ears ringing and skin sticky with sweat that wasn’t all his own.

The restroom door hardly muted the sound which held an underwater-like quality as it bounced against the walls; each bass note making the tap fittings on the far wall vibrate in place with a metallic _ring_.

It was three days til Rostelecom and Otabek still hadn’t fucked him.

Yuri pouted, stalking into a bathroom cubicle and flicking the lock to ‘occupied’. He flipped down the bent aluminium of the toilet seat, perching on the edge to pull free his phone (then consequently cursing at the black, shattered screen).

He was tired and sweaty and half-drunk off a flask Beka tried to hide in his motorcycle jacket. Too bad Yuri had found it when his fingers worked their way under the warm leather on the ride there.

It was Otabek’s voice that rang through his ears like a mantra, deep and chocolatey as he peeled Yuri’s hands out from under his shirt. Dark eyes black with intensity.

_Patience, Yura._

Yuri glared at the spider-web pattern of his smashed phone screen, head fuzzy with alcohol and fatigue. 

That was until a faint movement registered out of the corner of his eye.

Yuri’s chin picked up off his chest, white glowing fingers still clutched around his phone.

There was a hole in the cubicle wall.

There was a hole in the cubicle wall with a _flaccid dick_ hanging through it.

He blinked once, then again, head cocking to the side, the wispy tips of his high ponytail sticking to the lines of sweat at the base of his neck. Green eyes moved over the rough cut-out in the cubicle wall, sharp edges covered in matte gaffer tape in a vaguely circular opening.

Yuri careened his neck just a little from his perch on the toilet, trying to catch a glimpse under the wall, into the adjacent cubicle. The guy must have known what he was doing cause the most Yuri caught was the hint of a fuzzed shadow as the hidden tips of his shoes stayed resolutely in their own cubicle. 

Yuri clicked his tongue between his teeth, tucking his phone back into his jean pocket, feline-like curiosity piqued. He leaned back up slowly, green eyes dragging warily over the disembodied appendage, bass beyond the walls a steady thump that matched his heartbeat.

The first thought that ran through his hazy, teenage brain was to lift up one sticky, rubber sole and kick the limp cock back through the glory hole. Maybe twice for good measure. However, that particular reaction was replaced instead with curiosity as the faceless entity the dick was attached to shifted, cock swinging a little as he readjusted himself in the available space.

It (he?) was cut, flared head drooping at rest. The color of his skin and pubes impossible to tell in the ambiguous black light, though the contrast picked up on a prominent vein that worked it’s way under the skin of the wrinkled shaft.

Yuri sucked in a breath between his teeth, a single, pinky finger coming out to _ever so gently_ trace the raised line over the shaft. It twitched a little with the feather-light touch, Yuri watching it in bemused fascination as the head picked up from just the faintest trace of attention.

 _So fucking desperate_ , he wanted to laugh at his own quip, but held it back instead, replacing his pinky with his index finger to stroke a firm line from the curled mass of public hair up to the tip of the disembodied cock.

Yuri grimaced a little not expecting the warm, greasy sensation that stuck to the pad of his finger. He watched as the cock flagged up to half mast, feet in the other cubicle shifting again as the treble beyond the wall petered to vibrate through the walls.

He pulled back his hand rubbing his thumb and index finger together, squinting to catch the faint sheen of vaseline on his skin in the negative light. 

He raised one blonde eyebrow in realization.

Whatever little voice in his head that had threatened to stomp on the strangers dick was long gone as he stood from the bent toilet seat, setting his feet square to stare down at the flared head of the cock. 

Heavy and thick in the middle; he’d say it reminded him of Otabek’s, but truth is he hadn’t _seen_ Otabek’s cock. Just fisted it under the covers in his room, legs tangled and palms over each others mouths as they jacked each other off in the dark while Dedushka slept in the room next door.

Yuri closed his fist over the slightly sticky skin of the anonymous cock, fingers squeezing hard enough to know it must of hurt just a little. The reaction was another shuffle of feet on concrete, a faint grunt from the other side of the cubicle.

Yuri face broke into a malicious grin as he began to slowly flick his wrist in practiced motions. Closed fist sliding down to the thick curls, before sliding back up to the tip that glistened in the black light with a neon-line of precum. He bit his lip, watching as the faintly glowing cum stuck to the creases of his fingers before spreading in a mess over the vaseline-smeared skin.

Without questioning the decision, Yuri fingers worked quickly over the fly of his jeans, peeling away the denim from his skin. He slowed down the tempo of his hand, a strand of cum dangling from the tip of the weeping cock to drip onto the concrete. The floor below them already alight with splattered stains and dribbled lines that registered in the negative light.

Yuri pulled away his fist entirely, palm sticky with cum and vaseline, a few stray pubes caught between his fingers. There was a faint waft that registered above the dull funk of the bathroom; old cum, piss and sweat.

Yuri nose turned up a little, trying to ignore his first reflex to gag at the sudden realization of the stranger’s lack of personal hygiene. Whatever other reservations he had were lost as the funk dissipated into the air. 

Yuri swallowed, breathing through his mouth as he maneuvered that same, filthied hand back to his ass, wasting no time in shoving his index finger in up to the first knuckle. He let lose a quiet moan, pistoning the digit out, than in again to the third knuckle with a soft squelch.

He let out a louder moan as he crooked his finger, and for a moment he thought _whoever_ was on the other side of the hole had heard it; disembodied feet shifting a little closer so Yuri could catch a glimpse of his rolled raw denim cuffs and neon-glowing Yeezy’s.

Yuri’s eyebrows raised a little on his face as he slipped in another finger, panting lightly as he canted his hips back and onto his own hand in well practiced motions, watching the tips of the immaculately-kept sneakers shift on the concrete. His free hand grappled onto the strangers cock, in a quick one-two stroke, enough to pick up a few stray globs of vaseline that had accumulated at the base of his dick.

Yuri smeared the extra onto his own cock, curved and pointed up toward his belly button as he stared at the off-white sneakers. Silently wondering what kind of sick, smelly-dicked fuck would willingly put his cock through a hole in a cubicle. 

Yuri’s speculation was lost in a groan as he tugged at his foreskin, trying not to lose balance on the floor as he thrust two fingers at a ratcheting tempo in and out of his ass. The bass dropped again, loud enough the hinges on the cubicle shook and the hoots of the crowd was audible even in the claustrophobic bathroom space.

Yuri saw the toes of the sneakers shift once more, cock pressed at it’s fullest extent through the glory hole with an unspoken intent. In a flash, Yuri’s hands were free, peeling down his jeans just a little lower on his thighs, he turned his back on the hole with a shuddering exhalation.

 _Fuck patience._

He grinned as he grasped blindly behind himself to pinch the base of the cock, feeling the flared head rub against his rim. His other hand, smeared with white-glowing traces of cum pushed against the opposite wall of the cubicle to hold himself steady.

_Fuck patience and fuck—_

Oh so slowly he began to sink back on the tip of the stranger’s cock.

The thought was lost in a moan as he canted his hips higher, rim stretching around the thick girth. He paused a moment, feeling the tips of the strangers toes kick into the heel’s of his boots, searching for purchase though finding none.

Yuri bit his lip, holding back another grin as he sunk all-the-slower onto the greased-up length. The cool push of the cubicle wall met the back of his thighs, gaffer tape itching against his ass cheeks as he not-quite bottomed out on the twitching cock.

The hiss from the other side of the cubicle was audible, even over the thumping bass as Yuri slid off the length of the cock to the tip, rim puckering with the sudden movement, before repeating the slow and deliberate thrust of his hips. His cock ached between his thighs, looking down he could see the white-glow of precum smeared across his foreskin.

As the beginning of the next track reverberated around the room, Yuri lost whatever sensibility he had left and began to thrust back on the stranger’s cock with abandon. His finger nails dug marks into the cubicle wall, one foot lifting to find purchase on the toilet seat as he canted his hips back in reckless abandon. He moaned, feeling the aching stretch as he sunk down the fattest part of the anonymous dick with soft squelches of vaseline against skin.

Yuri keened as he thrust back, angling his hips higher and putting more weight onto his levered foot as he sunk onto the straining girth over and over, blonde threads coming loose from his high ponytail to stick across his face cast in contrasting black light. Vaguely aware of the noise he was making, Yuri slapped his free hand over his mouth, biting into the web of his hand in a vain effort to control the noises that echoed across to the other cubicle.

He was accosted again by that musty, and very human smell that covered his cum-streaked hand. But all that didn’t matter as he thrust his hips back again to take the full length of the cock offered to him through the taped off hole. The rough texture of the gaffer tape rubbed the skin of his ass raw with each press against it. But he didn't care, just continued to bounce and relish in the sensation of being utterly filled, a thin line of white growing as it fled down his thigh as he moved.

All of a sudden the bass got much louder.

Yuri, still biting into his own hand, head spinning barely registered the muffled curse from the other cubicle and the telltale swing of the restroom door. He hissed into his hand, loosing his bite hold, as the cock in his ass pulled free with a dull ‘pop’ of skin.

There was another curse (a far more audible ‘ _fuck_ ’) from the adjacent cubicle as what could only be a fist pounded on the door.

Yuri gasped despite himself, feeling the sudden rush of cum dribble between his thighs as he stumbled back from the now unoccupied glory hole. _That fucking perverted asshole_ , Yuri's brain swore internally as he felt another glob of cum seep from his ass. The fallacy was lost on Yuri as he heard the unquestionable sound of a heavy boot heel meeting a flimsy metal lock of the adjacent cubicle door echoed through the bathroom.

In retrospect, Yuri wish he would have paid attention to whatever exchange went on between ‘Yeezys’ and the very-pissed sounding interloper. His chest heaved too fast with adrenaline, and the bass was too loud for him to get a grips on the conversation halfway between a few dull punches, _fuck you’s_ , and all-too-familiar-sounding _what the fuck, man_. Any identifier lost in the dark, threatening tone of the interloper's deep voice.

A body slam against the side of the cubicle made Yuri yelp, marking the end of the scuffle barely after it had started. The bass elevated and subsided again as the restroom door swung closed, leaving only Yuri, pants half down and struck in black light, staring at the locked cubicle door.

“Yura.”

It was deep, authoritarian, and unquestionably Otabek.

Yuri swallowed, green eyes wide enough to show the glowing whites of his eyes as he glanced at the door, and what were indisputably Otabek’s boots at the threshold.

“Open the door, Yura.”

He repeated in a much calmer tone, almost a sigh. He sounded tired; barely audible over the music that blasted through the thin metal walls.

Yuri swallowed again, and without thinking to delay the inevitable, turned the lock with greased and shaking fingers.

He fell back almost immediately onto the toilet seat as Otabek pushed into the stall.

Otabek, all dressed in black, black hair and dark eyes was like a human shadow in the UV light. Even so, Yuri could feel the way his eyes roved from the disused glory hole, eyeing the glowing splatter on the matte tape, the floor, faint handprints on the wall until they made their way over to Yuri.

Yuri, still with his dick out, half collapsed on the dented toilet seat with a stranger’s cum drying between his legs in neon-glowing lines against his already glowing skin. Vaseline smeared across his dick, and on his lips from where his free hand had wiped across his face.

Otabek put a hand out behind himself and flicked the lock back to ‘occupied’.

He said nothing as he took one step closer, black boots sticking to the concrete. Yuri thought he might have seen him smile, softly and sincerely, as he tucked a stray blonde hair back behind Yuri’s ear.

“Sorry I took so long.”

Yuri nodded dumbly, still-greasy hands grasping the metal toilet seat to sit himself up just a little, at eye-level with Otabek’s belt buckle.

He licked his lips, staring up at Otabek, still not daring to say anything. He didn’t need to when instead, Otabek leant down, voice gravelly and blown out from his proximity.

“Stand up,” the back of his hand stroked the side of his face, “Wanna see.”

Was the only explanation he gave before his voice withdrew from Yuri’s ear.

Yuri shuddered, licking his lips just a little to expose the glowing whites of his teeth in the light, he stood on shaking thighs to turn and face the wall over the toilet.

He shivered again as he felt Otabek’s hands pull apart his asschecks, triggering another dribble of cum to loose itself from his rim as it fluttered at the attention.

Yuri thought he might have heard Otabek say _good_ , but it was impossible to tell in the din. Instead he felt a rustle behind him, and the dull slap of Otabek’s cock against the inside of his thighs. Smearing and picking up the neon-glowing lines of cum in fascination.

Yuri wanted to sob as Otabek’s fingers traced up and down his neglected cock, length pressed against his sticky crack as he stepped in close.

“Please.”

He whimpered as Otabek thrust into the space, smearing cum in messy thrusts between his ass cheeks, fingers teasing his foreskin almost absentmindedly.

“Can’t hear you, Yura.”

Otabek growled back in his ear, teeth finding his earlobe to nibble gently between each unsatisfying touch of his hand and cock on Yuri’s skin.

Yuri grit his jaw, pent up desperation, fatigue and annoyance finally reaching it’s boiling point.

“I’ve waited long enough, asshole! Why don’t you just hurry up and fu—“

His hissed tantrum was lost with a choke as both Otabek’s hands dug into the side of his hips _hard_. There was no negotiation as Otabek thrust into him, without warning, bottoming-out with a fetid squelch of cum from Yuri’s red and abused rim.

Yuri’s knees shook, threatening to give way entirely as Otabek began to thrust in and out of him at break neck speed. He sobbed, mouth hanging open as his greasy hands tried to make purchase on the cold metal of the cistern. Otabek’s cock angled up _just right_ to make him lose whatever sense he had left.

Sense that was entirely gone when Otabek fisted his greasy cock, once, then twice before Yuri came with a whimpering sob. Neon-streaks of cum coating Otabek’s knuckles as he continued to thrust. The harsh bite of Otabek's zipper leaving raised marks on his ass, and antagonizing the already reddened skin.

That same dirty hand was in his hair, pulling his ponytail and coating his faintly-glowing hair with streaked highlights of cum as Otabek pulled him back against him.

“Gonna cum.”

Was all he growled in Yuri’s ear as he did exactly that, cock twitching and one hand still dug painfully into the soft flesh under Yuri’s hip bone as he came. He pulled out too soon, warm paths of cum joining the already half-dried mess that presented itself in glaring, white dribbles from his puffy, stretched-out rim. Cum worming down his thighs down to soak in his jeans.

Yuri almost fell down onto the sticky concrete before Otabek caught him. There was a line of worry across his handsome face, lost on Yuri who felt as if his soul had left his body with the turn of the next track.

“Yura,” Otabek turned him around in his arms, sitting himself on the toilet seat as he cradled Yuri across his lap, not seeming to mind the cum stains that stuck to his own jeans.

Yuri looked up through his eyelashes with a faint smile, Otabek’s dark eyes and shadowy face hallowed by the purple lines of the flickering tubes on the ceiling. Otabek smiled back, kissing his forehead, words mumbled against the sweat on Yuri’s skin.

“Sorry I took so long.”

———


End file.
